LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 

<^''»l' Copyriglit x\o..Wi5" 

Shelf 1 B 9 9 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



WILD EDEN 



V 



■vS' 



■h^)<^o 



WILD EDEN 



GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

LONDON : MACMILLAN & CO., Ltd. 
1899 

All rights re sewed 






48695 

Copyright, 1899, 
By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 

TWO COPIES RECEIVED, 






SECOND OOPY. 



The Norwood Press 
J. S. Gushing & Co. — Berivick & Smith 

Norivoody Mass.y U.S.. 2.^ <rx CI I I 



JoTVl'^.'^^ 



CONTENTS 



ler 



sweet 



I. He ate the Laurel and is Mad 

II. Flower before the Leaf 

III. Wild Eden 

IV. The Birth of Love 
V. ** When first I saw h 

VI. The Secret 

VII. ** O, inexpressible as 

VIII. The Sea-Shell . 

IX. The Rose of Stars 

X. The Rose Bower 

XI. The Message . 

XII. The Rose 

XIII. The Lover 

XIV. The Weather-Spirit 
XV. Love's Castaway 

XVI. Divine Awe . 

XVII. Wind and Wave 

XVIII. Farewell 

XIX. The Wanderers 



7 

lO 

H 
15 
16 

17 
18 
20 
22 

25 
26 
28 
30 
31 
33 
34 
35 
36 



vi 


CONTENTS 








XX. 


PAGE 

"Now marble Apennines shining'* . 37 


XXI. 


** I see the warm sun parting " 


. 38 


XXII. 


Love Delayed 


• 39 


XXIII. 


Love's Confessional 






41 


XXIV. 


Going North 






• 43 


XXV. 


Homeward Bound 






• 45 


XXVI. 


The Homestead . 






47 


XXVII. 


The Lindens 






. 49 


XXVIII. 


The Bat . 






. 50 


XXIX. 


The Humming Bird 






• 55 


XXX. 


The Child . 






58 


XXXI. 


Love's Birthright . 






. 60 


XXXII. 


** From the young orchards " 


62 


XXXIII. 


" 0, struck beneath the laurel " 


64 


XXXIV. 


The Dream 


65 


XXXV. 


Nevada 






68 


XXXVI. 


The Mighty Mother 






69 


XXXVII. 
XXXVIII. 


Autumn 

So Slow to Die 






75 
76 


XXXIX. 


Eden Dirge 






78 


XL. 


The Blood-red Blossom 




80 


XLI. 


Seaward , . . 


. 




85 



WILD EDEN 

I 

a^t ate tlje Mmtl anD is? £paU 

Is it a dream that the world is fair? 
And the voice in my blood's melodious 

beat, — 
Is it only in dreams heard smooth and 

fleet? 
Lightly singing, "Somewhere, somewhere, 
There is one who shall make thy whole 

life sweet. 
Making all beautiful things complete 
With the fairest of things found fair ! " 

I drank at dawn the Muses* breath; 
In boyhood's blossom and flood 



2 WILD EDEN 

I bit the laurel ; I know till death 

Its poison will flow in my blood. 

Into my speech a glory slips ; 

A throbbing pains my side ; 

One is the breath of the Muses' lips ; 

One is the laurel — woe betide! 

All day my perilous pulses keep 

A music sweeter than the spheres ; 

All day, all night, heart-high they leap. 

They witch my eyes with hopes and fears. 

I bit the laurel so deep, so deep. 

That every lovely thing appears 

A spirit clad in maidenhood, — 

The glamour flies with Dian's foot. 

And music rushes through the wood. 

So long I ate Apollo's root. 

There shooteth through me, blood and 

brain, 
A burning bliss, by day, by night, — 
Here — there — her face! — if love be pain, 
'Tis pain exceeding all delight ! 
For who the laurel-madness hath 



HE ATE THE LAUREL AND IS MAD 3 

Shall hold the vision-haunted path. 
Searching with song the whole world 

through. 
Where spreads the green, where rolls the 

blue. 
A maiden draws me, feet and eyes, 
The way by happy lovers ranged ; 
And, maiden-touched, my sweet youth dies 
To sweeter manhood, maiden-changed. 
Though I be mad, I shall not wake; 
I shall not fall to common sight; 
Only the god himself may take 
This music out of my blood, this glory 

out of my breath. 
This lift, this rapture, this singing might. 
And love that outlasts death. 

I shall go singing, blood and brain, 
I shall make music of voice and lyre. 
Triumphs of sorrow, paeans of pain. 
And at every fall shall the song leap 
higher ; 



4 WILD EDEN 

Whether through Love victorious made, 
Or in his victories victim-laid. 
Him will I praise, whatever fates are. 
On my lips the flower, in my eyes the 

star. 
My heart his passion, my soul his flame, — 
Love, our divine and intimate lord. 
Who out of the infinite, all-adored. 
Into the heart of nature came. 
With splendor of ten million suns ; 
And instant back his longing runs 
Through bud and billow, through drift and 

blaze. 
Through thought, through prayer, the thou- 
sand ways 
The spirit journeys from despair ; 
He sees all things that they are fair. 
But feels them as the daisied sod, — 
This slumbrous beauty, this light, this 

room. 
The chrysalis and broken tomb 
He cleaveth on his way to God. 



HE ATE THE LAUREL AND IS MAD 5 

I shall go singing over-seas : 
" The million years of the planet's increase, 
All pangs of death, all cries of birth, 
Are clasped at one by the heart of earth." 

I shall go singing by tower and town : 
" The thousand cities of men that crown 
Empire slow-rising from horde and clan 
Are clasped at one by the heart of man." 

I shall go singing by flower and brier : 
" The multitudinous stars of fire. 
And man made infinite under the sod. 
Are clasped at one by the heart of God." 

I shall go singing up ice and snow : 
" Blow soon, dread angel, greatly blow. 
Break up, ye gulfs, beneath, above. 
Peal, time's last music, — ' love, love, 
love'!" 

And wheresoever my feet shall rest. 
The place shall be named of the lovers' 
guest ; 



6 WILD EDEN 

And where in the night I journey on, 
The place shall be called of the lover 

gone; 
My life shall be as a sweet song sung, 
My death as a knell by maidens rung, 
Lightly singing, " Somewhere, somewhere. 
There is one to make thy whole life 

sweet. 
Making all beautiful things complete 
With the fairest of things found fair ! '' 
And before the silence wholly fall. 
Faintly shall soft echoes call, 
Syllabling some heavenly air. 
As if my spirit lingered there — 
" Found fair — found fair — found fair ! '* 



II 

iflotoer before tl)e ileaf 



Flower before the leaf, boy-loved Rhodora, 
Morning-pink along the valley of the birch 

and maple ; 
Now the green begins to cling about the 

silver birches, 
Burst the maple buds and ruddy yonder 

hillside ; 
Sudden as the babbling brook or robin's 

whistle, 
Spring-swift, thou art come in the old 

places. 
In the hollow swamp-land, bloom on 

brake ! 

Flower before the leaf! 
Ah, once here in the sweet season — 
7 



8 WILD EDEN 

Flash of blue wings, birds in chorus. 
Ere the violet, ere the wild-rose. 
While the linden lingered and the elm tree — 
Years ago a boy*s heart broke in blossom, 
Flower before the leaf, 
While he wandered down the valley lov- 
ing you; 
And above him, and around him. 
Beam and gleam and distant color, 
Waiting, waiting, hung the Spirit 
To rush forth upon the world. 

II 

Somewhere in the years of the dawn did 
I dream that a youth all boy-like 
stands ? — 

And the tender Rhodora's bloom, the first 
of the year, is red in his pure, sweet 
hands ; 

And in the doorway bending, dark-haired, 
bright-cheeked, a girlish form ap- 
pears, — 



FLOWER BEFORE THE LEAF 9 

A word, a smile, a blush, and out of the 

blue a black bird downward steers, — 
And all the spirits rush to his heart, and 

the fragrant world, save her, turns 

dim. 
The flowering of whose face was the glory 

of spring through the years of the 

dawn to him ! 



Ill 

There is a garden enclosed 

In the high places, 
But never hath love reposed 

In its bowery spaces ; 
And the cedars there like shadows 

O'er the moonlit champaign stand 

Till light like an angel's hand 
Touches Wild Eden. 

Who told me the name of the garden 

That lieth remote, apart, 
I know not, nor whence was the music 

That sang it into my heart ; 
But just as the loud robin tosses 

His notes from the elm-tops high. 
As the violets come in the mosses 

When south-winds wake and sigh, 



WILD EDEN II 

So on my lips I found it, 

This name that is made my cry. 

There, under the stars and the dawns 

Of the virginal valleys, 
White liHes flood the low lawns 

And the rose lights the alleys ; 
But never are heard there the voices 

That sweeten on lovers* lips, 

And the wild bee never sips 
Sweets of Wild Eden. 

But who hath shown me the vision 

Of the roses and lilies in ranks 
I would that I knew, that forever 

To him I might render thanks ; 
For a maiden grows there in her blossom, 

In the place of her maidenhood. 
Nor knows how her virgin bosom 

Is stored with the giving of good. 
For the truth is hidden from her 

That of love is understood. 



12 WILD EDEN 

No bird with his mate there hovers. 

Nor beside her has trilled or sung ; 
No bird in the dewy covers 

Has built a nest for his young ; 
And over the dark-leaved mountains 

The voice in the laurel sleeps ; 

And the moon broods on the deeps 
Shut in Wild Eden. 

O Love, if thou in thy hiding 

Art he who above me stands. 
If thou givest wings to my spirit. 

If thou art my heart and my hands, — 
Through the morn, through the noon, 
through the even 

That burns with thy planet of light. 
Through the moonlit space of heaven, 
. Guide thou my flight 
Till, star-like on the dark garden, 

I fall in the night ! 



WILD EDEN 13 



ENVOY 



Fly, song of my bosom, unto it 

Wherever the earth breathes spring; 
Though a thousand years were to rue it. 

Such a heart beats under thy wing. 
Thou shalt dive, thou shalt soar, thou 
shalt find it, 
And forever my Hfe be blest. 
Such a heart beats in my breast, — 
Fly to Wild Eden! 



IV 

grije 115irtt) of iloije 

'Tis joy to feel the spirit leap 
Angelic from its childhood sleep, 
^Pure as a star, fair as a flower. 
Eager with youth's unblasted power; 
Where every sense gives soft consent, 
To burst into love's element ; 
To be all touch, all eye, all ear. 
And pass into love's burning sphere. 
14 



When first I saw her, at the stroke 
The heart of nature in me spoke ; 
The very landscape smiled more sweet, 
Lit by her eyes, pressed by her feet; 
She made the stars of heaven more bright 
By sleeping under them at night; 
And fairer made the flowers of May 
By being lovelier than they. 

Softly down where the sunshine spread. 
Dark in the grass I laid my head; 
And let the lights of earth depart 
To find her image in my heart ; 
While through my being came and went 
Tones of some heavenly instrument. 
As if where its blind motions roll 
This world should wake and be a soul. 



VI 

Nightingales warble about it 

All night under blossom and star ; 

The wild swan is dying without it, 
And the eagle crieth afar; 

The sun, he doth mount but to find it, 
.Searching the green earth o'er; 

But more doth a man's heart mind it — 
O more, more, more ! 

Over the gray leagues of ocean 

The infinite yearneth alone ; 
The forests with wandering emotion 

The thing they know not intone ) 
Creation arose but to see it, 

A million lamps in the blue ; 
But a lover, he shall be it. 

If one sweet maid is true. 

i6 



VII 

O, INEXPRESSIBLE aS SWCCt, 

Love takes my voice away ; 
I cannot tell thee when we meet 
What most I long to say. 

But hadst thou hearing in thy heart 
To know what beats in mine, 

Then shouldst thou walk, where'er thou 
art, 
In melodies divine. 

So warbling birds lift higher notes 

Than to our ears belong ; 
The music fills their throbbing throats. 

But silence steals the song, 
c 17 



VIII 

My love o'erflows with joy divine 

The ocean-girdled hills ; 
And with my breath each blowing pine 

And combing breaker fills ; 
The shadows of my spirit move 

The far, blue coast along, 
Where of wild beauty first I wove 

The rainbow woof of song ; 
On these great beaches of the North 

My voices shoreward roll, 
And when the blessed stars come forth, 

All heaven is made my scroll. 

I take the wings of morn ; I soar 

Above the ocean plain ; 
From fountains of the sun I pour 

My passion's golden rain ; 
iS 



THE SEA-SHELL 19 

And when black tempest heaven shrouds, 

On eastern thunders far 
I show the rainbow In the clouds, 

And give the West her star ; 
Soft blow the winds o'er fallen showers, 

And, cool with fragrance, sleep 
Lies breathing through the chambered 
hours ; 

I only wake and weep. 

O mystic Love ! that so can take 

The bright world In thy hands. 
And its imprisoned spirits make 

Murmur at thv commands ; 
As if, in truth, this orb of law 

Were but thy reed-hung nest. 
Woven by Time of sticks and straw 

To house the summer guest ; 
And so to me the starry sphere 

Is but love's frail sea-shell ; 
O, might she press it to her ear. 

What would its murmurs tell ! 



IX 

tB^t Hc0e of ^tars; 

When Love, our great Immortal, 

Put on mortality. 
And down from Eden's portal 

Brought this sweet life to be. 
At the sublime archangel 

He laughed with veiled eyes, 
For he bore within his bosom 

The seed of Paradise. 

He hid it in his bosom, 

And there such warmth it found, 
It brake in bud and blossom. 

And the rose fell on the ground 
As the green light on the prairie, 

As the red light on the sea. 
Through fragrant belts of summer 

Came this sweet life to be. 
20 



THE ROSE OF STARS 21 

And the grave archangel seeing 

Spread his mighty wings for flight, 
But the glow hung round him fleeing 

Like the rose of an Arctic night ; 
And sadly moving heavenward 

By Venus and by Mars, 
He heard the joyful planets 

Hail Earth, the Rose of Stars. 



W\)t Hosfe llBotoer 

A CRIMSON bower the garden glows, 
In overhanging noon, intense and bare. 
Enisled and bathed In silence and repose, 
As It were mirrored on the azure air ; 
All molten lies the faint blue-shimmering 

deep, 
Impalpably transparent, smooth with light ; 
Far In the fragrant pines the hot winds 

sleep ; 
And nothing moves, and all dark things 

are bright. 
Yet is this fair round of tranquIlHty, 
This swathe of color, wheresoever it be, 
The burning shell of elemental strife ; 
And never yet so fleeting seemed sweet 

life ; 
So fragile this thin film of human eyes, 

22 



THE ROSE BOWER 23 

In whose slight orb are springtime and 

sunrise ; 
So perishable this incandescent frame. 
Lone Nature's inextinguishable pyre 
Of transitory loveliness and bliss, — 
This undulating and eternal flame 
Of beauty burning in its perfumed fire. 
And passion dying in its tropic kiss. 

Even now the sweet-hued vision sinks 

away. 
And from these bathing flames of night 

and day. 
As in my hour to come it soon may seem 
When fades to ashes earth's majestic dream. 
My soul springs up erect, alone, supreme. 
And, passing from this glory, doth survey. 
As some spent meteor's low and dying 

gleam. 
This radiant life that burns all else away, 
Consuming its own star ; a moment, where 
About my feet morning and evening flare, 



24 WILD EDEN 

My spirit gazes, still a stranger there, 
On this dear human home, so sweet, so 

fair, 
Not yet unfolds aloft eternal wings. 
Then slowly lapsing into sensuous things, 
Once more do I inhale this glorious light. 
Breathe the soft air and feel the flowerins: 

earth, 
And on me comes the everlasting sea. 
Purple horizons, emerald-hanging woods. 
The rose bower, and love's blissful soli- 
tudes. 
Where voices of eternity 
Have wandered from mv birth, 
And nothing save love's mvstery 
Shines with immortal worth. 



XI 

So fair the world about me lies. 
So pure is heaven above, 
Ere so much beauty dies 
I would give a gift to my love; 
Now, ere the long day close. 
That has been so full of bliss, 
I will send to my love the rose 
In its leaves I will shut a kiss; 
A rose in the night to perish, 
A kiss through life to cherish; 
Now, ere the night-wind blows, 
I will send unto her the rose. 
25 



XII 
tCIic Hose 

love's star over Eden, 
How pale and faint thou art ! 

Now lost, now seen above, 

Thy white rays point and dart. 
O, liquid o'er her move, 
. Shine out and take my part ! 

1 have sent her the rose of love. 
And shut in the rose is my heart. 

The fireflies glitter and rush 

In the dark of the summer mead; 
Pale on the hawthorn bush. 

Bright on the larkspur seed ; 
And long is heaven aflush 

To give my rose god-speed ; 
If she breathe a kiss, it will blush ; 

If she bruise a leaf, it will bleed. 
26 



THE ROSE 27 

O bright star ov^er Eden, 

All beautiful thou art; 
To-day, in the rose, the rose. 

For my love I have perilled my heart; 
Now, ere the dying glows 

From the placid isles depart. 
The rose-bathed planet knows 

It is hers, my rose, my heart! 



XIII 
tE^t ilot3er 

Come down, my love, from Eden, 

For there all things decay, 
Since in his youthful bosom 

Love bore the seed away ; 
Now leave the loveless garden, 

And I will be thy guide 
To that world where thy lover 

Shall never leave thy side. 

Come, love ; in that new country 

The rose shall be thy part. 
And many a darling blossom 

Shall press against thy heart; 
In a lily whiter, sweeter 

Love shall treasure up thy gold ; 
Lily and rose together 

Thou to thy breast shalt fold. 
28 



THE LOVER 29 

Come, love ; my heart is burning 

To reach unto thy hand ; 
Come, love ; my soul is yearning 

For that mystical new land ; 
Now where thy eyes are bending 

Mayst thou thy lover see 
Midway the height ascending 

That leadeth up to thee. 



XIV 
tB^t Mratljfiv&ptrit 

A VOICE in the roaring pine-wood, 
A voice in the breaking sea, 

A voice in the storm-red morning. 
That will not let me be. 

It is calling me to the forest. 
It is calling me to the strand. 

The Weather-Spirit is calling me 
To fare over sea and land. 

Till my cheek with the rain is stinging, 
And my hand is wet with the spray, 

There is that within my bosom 
Which will not let me stay. 

Might in the pine-wood tossing, 

Might on the racing sea, 
The Weather-Spirit, my brother, 

Is calling, calling, to me. 
30 



XV 

On isle and crag the wild-rose blooms 

Above the purple wave ; 
Its lonely beauty lights the glooms 

Of many a sailor-g-rave. 
Sad thought ! but oft the ocean-strain. 

That wanders in my blood, 
Works in the meditative brain 

Some wild mysterious mood ; 
I leave the summer's pine-soft track ; 

From all of earth I flee ; 
And on dark tides my soul turns back 

And draws to the deep sea ; 
And oft this flower of wilding song. 

That on the gray crag grew, 
Amid the sea-winds safe from wrong, 

And fed with rain and dew. 



32 WILD EDEN 

Seems but the wild-rose of the rock 
That brightens day by day, 

And there outlives the tempest's shock 
To mourn the castaway. 

Ah, if where then the blue sea grieves 

I lie beneath the rose. 
My love will live in its lone leaves 

After a thousand snows ; 
And every crag that sees it blush 

Will with my love-note ring, 
While every bird within the bush 

Pours this immortal spring ; 
And each brown league of this salt spray 

Shall lift my shrill sea-cry. 
Where here above love's castaway 

The ocean billows lie. 



XVI 

To tremble, when I touch her hands. 
With awe that no man understands; 
To feel soft reverence arise 
When, lover-sweet, I meet her eyes ; 
To see her beauty grow and shine 
When most I feel this awe divine, — 
Whate'er befall me, this is mine ; 
And where about the room she moves, 
My spirit follows her, and loves. 
^ 33 



XVII 
Wiuxt^ ann OTabe 

Why wilt thou make, O Wave, 

Forever in from the bay? 
Dost thou seek on the beaches* grave 

To cast thy life away ? 

Why wilt thou blow, O Wind, 
. Forever out to sea ? 
Is it death thou, too, wouldst find, 
O winged eternity ? 

I told my love unsped 

To both in the eventide ; 
The wild Wind moaned, and fled; 

The wild Wave sobbed, and died. 
34 



XVIII 

O SNOW-WHITE birds aye calling me, 

And must I say farewell ; 
And past the coasts of mystery 

Follow the dark sea-swell ? 

This shore was all the world to me ; 

And if I say farewell, 
Its vague and murmuring minstrelsy 

Shall house in my sea-shell. 

And thou, sea-rose, forget not me, 
Though now I say farewell ; 

And where I lie, afar from thee. 
To those who love me tell. 

But, O Wild Eden, not to thee, 

O, not to thee farewell ; 
Nor can the heart of Italy 

Vie with thy maiden-spell ! 
35 



XIX 

^\)t (lI(lIlanDrm*0 

The ocean, storming on the rocks, 
Shepherds not there his wild, wet flocks ; 
The soaring aether nowhere finds 
An -eyrie for the winged winds ; 
Nor has yon ghttering sky a charm 
To hive in heaven the starry swarm ; 
And so thy wandering thoughts, my heart. 
No home shall find ; let them depart ! 
36 



XX 

Now marble Apennines shining 

Should breathe my spirit bare ; 
My heart should cease repining 

In the rainbow-haunted air; 
But cureless sorrow carries 

My heart beyond the sea, 
Nor comfort in it tarries 

Save thoughts of thee. 

The branch of olive shaken 

Silvers the azure sea ; 
Winds in the ilex waken ; 

O, wert thou here with me. 
Gray olive, dark ilex, bright ocean. 

The radiant mountains round. 
Never for love's devotion 

Were sweeter lodging found ! 
37 



XXI 

♦♦31 ^^t t\)t mmn ^mx HDatting'* 

I SEE the warm sun parting 

From all sweet things that be ; 
The orange now regrets him, 

With the rose in company ; 
And faintly flushing darkens 

The blossomed almond-tree ; 
In every kiss he taketh 

I seem to part from thee. 

Dark lifts the palm-tree yonder 

Its sharp spines on the west. 
O doth the birch now waken 

And whisper of thy guest ? 
O white birch, when stars cover 

The bird within thy nest, 
Dost thou sigh near her bosom 

The longing of my breast ? 
38 



XXII 

The star that most is mine once did I 
see ; 
No cloud there was ; only the reddened 

air 
Bloomed round it where it smiled, all 
bright and fair; 
Then most of all love seemed divine to me. 
So pure it shone I could but think of 
thee ; 
So rosily enclasped, yet more must dare ; 
" So dost thou shine, my love," nor 
could forbear, 
"So soft my passion folds thy purity!" 

But now I see the western star all gold 
Hang o'er the high and gloomy Apen- 
nine; 

39 



40 WILD EDEN 

And there I read my lot more truly told — 
The night, the penance, the far journey 
mine ! 
Still be thou bright! — My heart, all dark 
and cold. 
Suffers no light save what from thee 
doth shine. 



XXIII 
ilobe'0 Confc00tonal 

Only the lily shall shrive me 

Of my passion and my pain ; 
Only the rose shall revive me 
From death unto life again. . 
O lily, white to see, 
O rose of mystery. 
Hear me confess ! 

I was a lover from birth, — 

Flower of the earth ! 
Love's thoughts were mine from a boy, - 

Flower of love's joy ! 
Love's words were mine through youth, - 

Flower of love's truth ! 
Love's deeds were mine, man-grown, — 

Flower of love's throne ! 
Thoughts, words, deeds, were his, — 

Flower of one bliss ! 

41 



42 WILD EDEN 

I was a lover from birth, — 

Flower of the earth ! 
My thoughts were love*s from a boy, — 

Desire, not joy ! 
My words were love*s through youth, — 

Prayer, not truth ! 
My deeds were love's, man-grown, — 

Defeat, not his throne ! 
Thoughts, words, deeds, were his, — 

Pain, not bliss ! 

From my thoughts In which love sighs. 
From my words in which love cries. 
From my deeds in which love dies. 

White lily, shrive me ! 
With love's thoughts wherefrom joy springs, 
With love's words wherein truth sings. 
With love's deeds wherewith heaven rings, 

My rose, revive me ! 



XXIV 

Ice-gorge and mountain snow, 

And ere my steps depart. 
The avalanche will leap and go 

Into the glacier's heart. 

Ice-cave and rainbow-quiver, 

And blue from the glacier's mouth 

The rushing river, with chill and shiver, 
Glides into the warmed South. 

The sun-tide sets to furthest North, 

And ere my steps arrive. 
The fields aflood, and the willow forth. 

And the thawed bees leave the hive. 

Spring, with the almond-blossom wing 

Brushing the Alpine snows, 
Wing and wing, fly with me. Spring, 

Till the Arctic be all one rose; 
43 



44 WILD EDEN 

And all that is cold and frozen be gone, 
And the icebergs melt in the sea ; 

Till the blushing maid be kissed and won, 
And her cold heart melt in me ! 



XXV 



Into the west of the waters on the living 

ocean's foam, 
Into the west of the sunset where the 

young adventurers roam, 
Into the west of the shining star, I am 

saiHng, saihng home ; 
Home from the lonely cities, time's wreck, 

and the naked woe, 
Home through the clean great waters 

where freemen's pennants blow. 
Home to the land men dream of, where 

all the nations go ; 
'Tis home but to be on the waters, 'tis 

home already here, 
Through the v^eird red-billowing sunset 

into the west to steer, 

45 



46 WILD EDEN 

To fall to sleep in the rocking dark with 
home a day more near. 

II 

By morning light the ship holds on, alive 

with happy freight, 
A thousand hearts with one still joy, and 

with one hope elate. 
To reach the land that mothered them 

and sweetly guides their fate ; 
Whether the purple furrow heaps the bows 

with dazzling spray. 
Or buried in green-based masses they dip 

the storm-swept day. 
Or the white fog ribbons o*er them, the 

strong ship holds her way ; 
And when another day is done, by the 

star of love we steer 
To the land of all that we love best and 

all that we hold dear ; 
We are sailing westward, homeward ; our 

western home is near. 



XXVI 

In the high field I used to know 
Where earliest the violets grow, 
I found three, faithful to the rock, 
The firstlings of the azure flock. 

The sun-warmed ground, the soft salt air, 
Seemed still of boyhood lingering there ; 
The sea-blown homestead of my race, — 
What feelings filled the sacred place ! 

I found in tears 'tis memory gives 
The immortal part by which man lives ; 
And every flower I ponder on 
Grows in a world of beauty gone. 

Full many a spring of buried bloom 
From these faint violets sheds perfume ; 
And all the summers of the sun 
My love remembers, shine as one. 

47 



48 WILD EDEN 

Ye hills, ye woods my boyhood knew. 
Be now my manhood dear to you ! 
And fairer may I ye behold 
Year after year, as I grow old. 



XXVII 
®l)e !lintitns; 

Bees in the lindens booming 

In the green core, out of sight, 
In the lindens, yellow-blooming. 

Embosomed close as night ; 
And nought is there to see 

Save the mellow emerald's bright 
Deep-foliaged lucidity 

Of music, bloom, and light. 

Bees in the lindens humming 

Melody three days old, 
" Midsummer coming, coming. 

Autumn, and winter, the cold ! '' 
The green core ringing is. 

Rings the tiny blossomed gold. 
The lindens ring with bliss 

In three days told. 

E 49 



XXVIII 

tE^be 115at 

One rich hollyhock warden, 
High in the midsummer garden, 
Motionless points its blossoming spear 
Up to the honey-pale, amber-clear 
Dome of the golden atmosphere. 
Shut aloft by the foliage-wall, 
Linden, rock-maple, elms over all. 
Embowering, umbrageous, massive, tall. 
That make of the garden a little dell, 
A place of slumber for blade and bell, — 
Of sleep and circumambient peace. 
From the crimson hollyhock's flowered spire 
To the one deep rose-plume drifting fire, 
Where, duskily seen as the shades increase. 
Mid molten flakes of breaking fleece. 
And trellised with many a fading spark. 
Through her summer-lattice peers the dark. 
50 



THE BAT 51 

Midsummer now, and the black bat come 
Who makes of the garden his dim night- 
home ; 
Familiar to me from boyhood's year 
That gave me mated first-love, first-fear ; 
And before the wings of darkness seize 
The blackening boughs, he is flitting there. 
Lightly silhouetting the air. 
In the hollow gulf of the trees ; 
Swooping, careening, never alight. 
Swerving, turning, in involute flight. 
High and far on the elm's black edge. 
Low in the clefts of the evergreen hedge ; 
Never long come, never quite gone. 
With poise and waver he circles on. 
Darts and doubles and disappears. 
And blurs on the eaves with gyres and 

veers ; 
And ever I watch with charmed eyes 
The noiseless shadow where it flies. 
The strange lone guest of the branched 
gloom. 



52 WILD EDEN 

Weaving over the garden in bloom 

In the silence and darkness of the night 

His great gray loops of flight. 

O'er summers many the flower-mould lies, 
Since first, with night-awakened eyes, 
I hunt the dark where the shadow flies ; 
Midsummers many the woven charm. 
Weirdly weaving, wrought in me 
Phantoms of fore-felt misery ; 
Now many a year and many a grief 
Lie^ buried under the yellow leaf; 
And the garden now were scarce the same 
Unless the friendless creature came. 
My shadow-playmate of long past time, 
Where lonesome thought and darksome 

hour 
Hung over the midsummer in flower, 
Ere the sun-tide ebbed from the northern 

clime. 
And the chill of the year made into the 

bower. 



THE BAT 53 

Dark comrade of the vanished prime, 
Dark omen of misfortune near, 
The past, the future, dark appear 
Beneath his ever-falling rings. 
But O, may never come hurt nor harm 
To the least little tender film of his hunch- 
back wings ! 
Something to me the black bat brings 
I should miss were he never to come 

again. 
The prisoner of this nighted frame; 
Nor now were life without death dear. 
Earth without sorrow, love without pain, 
And scarce this human heart the same 
Unvisited by fear. 

Midnight now, and my song-in-bloom. 
Like the night-hid hollyhock, lifts its spear 
From the master-soul, past beauty, past 

gloom. 
To the midsummer midnight majestic, 

clear, — 



54 WILD EDEN 

And the far roll of the sea I hear ; 
And the black bat flits a mote obscure 
In the song where star and sea endure. 

O black bat, what were thy omen true? — 
My day hath the garden, my night hath 
you. 



XXIX 

®l)e il;tunming BirD 

Bird In the flower. 

Blossom-spirit, 

Whose tiny power 

Doth the rainbow inherit, 

A breathless minute 

Flower-like in it 

Hang in the flower. 

Ruby-throat rover 
Of noon's blue hour, 
Making music so sphere-like 
Only silence can hear it, 
Sung to the flower ; 
Faery resonance clear, like 
The garden's bell-tower 
Heard through the bower. 
55 



56 WILD EDEN 

Larkspur-lover, 
Deep in the flower, 
With secret blisses. 
Aerial kisses, 
Over and over ; 
Swift goer, swift comer, 
Heart of the summer 
A-wing on the flower. 

Could heart discover 
Thy love-fast power. 
So near to hover, 
So close to love her. 
Deep in the flower. 
With hid blisses 
And silent kisses, 
O, it were heaven 
To be such a lover ! 

How should she fear it, 
The rainbow spirit. 
Nor love to be near it, 
Flower-like immure it. 



THE HUMMING BIRD 57 

Love in life's flower ; 
Feed it and lure it, 
The ruby rover, 
One golden hour. 
And over and over, 
Home to her bower ! 

Love, the song-spirit, 
Alone to hear it 
There in her bower ; 
Bright-bodied above her. 
Hark, the true lover ! 
What passion he sings. 
The sphere's own music 
From the heart-strings ! — 
Art thou gone, swift wings. 
The bird from the flower ? 



XXX 

It was only the clinging touch 

Of a child's hand in the street, 

But it made the whole day sweet ; 

Caught, as he ran full-speed. 

In my own stretched out to his need, 

Caught, and saved from the fall, 

As I held, for the moment's poise, 

In mv circling arms the whole boy's 

Delicate slightness, warmed mould ; 

Mine, for an instant mine. 

The sweetest thing the heart can divine, 

More precious than fame or gold, 

The crown of many joys. 

Lay in my breast, all mine. 

I was nothing to him ; 
He neither looked up nor spoke ; 
58 



THE CHILD 59 

I never saw his eyes ; 
He was gone ere my mind awoke 
From the action's quick surprise 
With vision blurred and dim. 

You say I ask too much : 

It was only the clinging touch 

Of a child in a city street ; 

It hath made the whole day sweet. 



XXXI 
!lobc'0 115irtl)ngl;t 

To take the life, and stay the stream thereof; 
To be the flower but not the seed of love ; 
The voice, but not the heaven-homing 

song ; 
The instrument, but not what doth belong 
Unto the instrument as song to breath, 
Its utterance of the chords of life and death, 
The music born of it, its own soul-birth, — 
This is to make thy body bankrupt earth, 
And in thy soul annul the law divine, 
For in the blood-tie love doth holiest 

shine ; 
And life from life, to give and to receive. 
For mortals is love's true prerogative ; 
His sacred power lies there ; thence flows 

his grace 
Diffused and deathless in a dying race, 
60 



LOVE'S BIRTHRIGHT 6i 

And ever building, out of touch and sight, 
The immortal world, with all we worship 

bright ; 
O, ponder this, before death to thee come, 
And childless eld, — no hand to lead thee 

home. 



XXXII 
♦♦ iFrom tlje ^oung otcljarDsi ** 

From the young orchards, thick with rosy 

spray. 
Falls in the windless night the wreath of 

May; 
And the young maples, fresh with early 

gold, 
In- one slow moon their emerald globes 

unfold ; 
So grows, through happy change, the tree 

of life. 

The sweet arbutus to the violet yields ; 
Soon the wild daisies flood the fluttering 

fields ; 
And last the cardinal and the golden-rod 
Lift to the blue the soft fire of the sod ; 
So moves, from bloom to bloom, the flower 

of love. 

62 



^'FROM THE YOUNG ORCHARDS" 63 

Oj hidden-strange as on dew-heavy lawns 
The warm dark scents of summer-fragrant 

dawns ; 
Oj tender as the faint sea-changes are. 
When grows the flush and pales the snow- 
white star ; 
So strange, so tender, to a maid is love. 

O, calling as the touch of children's hands, 
That draw all wanderers home o'er seas and 

lands ; 
O, answering far as from the world divine. 
Whence unseen hands through Time and 

Space touch mine ; 
So in my breast I hear the voice of love. 

The Eden-heart of this majestic frame, 
God's will on earth, and flame within the 

flame 
Far as yon suns in Nature's mystic dusks. 
Deep as the life whereof our lives are 

husks — 
Unspeakable, O love, my love, is love. 



XXXIII 
♦^ (D, struck bencat!) t\)t laurel '* 

O, STRUCK beneath the laurel, where the 

singing fountains are, 
I saw from heaven falling the star of love 

afar ; 
O, slain in Eden's bower nigh the bourn 

where lovers rest, 
I fell upon the arrow that was buried in my 

breast ; 
Farewell the noble labor, farewell the silent 

pain. 
Farewell the perfect honor of the long years 

lived in vain ; 
I lie upon the moorland where the wood 

and pasture meet. 
And the cords that no man breaketh are 

bound about my feet. 
64 



XXXIV 

XE^i)t SDream 

Was it April I heard sighing, 
Was it May I heard replying, 
In the time when love lay dying, 
True love, so slow to die ? 

Was it April I saw mingling 
With the sea-fog, white and chill, 
Leave the ruddy maples tingling, 
And the green mist on the hill ; 
Come fire-shod through the furrow, 
And fleeting through the boughs. 
While many a golden morrow 
Streamed backward from her brows ? 
Did I hear her breathing nigh 
Where the wet, bright grasses grow, 
And the oriole passes by. 
In moist places, warm and low, 
F 65 



66 WILD EDEN 

Till I dreamed the dream before me 
In the dreaming of the year, 
And I dreamed her breath stole o'er me, 
Sighing low, " Would May were here ! " 

Swelled the bud and closed the furrow ; 
Shadier night and ampler day ; 
April, sorrow unto sorrow. 
Gave me unto mourning May; 
Like a spirit, bending o'er me. 
Woman seemed she, eve and morn. 
Light in darkness. May that bore me 
Watched the child that she had borne ; 
Soothed me with dim hands of healing, 
Sleeping, till I dreamed again 
Balmier daybreaks rosier stealing 
On the heaving ocean-plain, 
Past the tide-ways of the islands 
To the dreamy-cadenced foam. 
And the large out-looking highlands, 
Pines and pastures of my home ; 
There "beside me, parting never. 



THE DREAM 67 

Over earth and sea and skies 
Lights of beauty blown forever 
Flamed and faded with my eyes ; 
Faint the music o'er my bosom — 
" Sleep and dream, sleep and dream ; 
Waken, bud, and waken, blossom; 
Feed him, lead him, flower and gleam ! " 
And at last, like music broken 
With a great cry, came the light. 
Loosed in tears my woe unspoken. 
Lived, and brought the starless night. 



XXXV 

My pulses tremble and start, 
And flame in my throbbing heart; 
And I would that the ocean-wind might arise 
And blow the flying scud through the skies ; 
And I long for the spirit of cold 
About my fever to flash and fold, — 
And far away I see uplift. 
Through the waver of thought and mem- 
ory's drift, 
Nevada peaks, where the heavenly rose 
Sleeps in the bosom of summer snows : 
Summer snows in their bosom lie. 
And out of the heart of the tender sky. 
Where all day long the lone sun rolled. 
Blooms the death-rose in a mist of gold ; 
And with sudden pallor the faint flush goes. 
And leaves the peaks to their white repose. 
68 



XXXVI 

O Mother, Mighty Mother, thou who 
bearest 
The children of illusion and desire. 
Lovers of all that to the heart is fairest, 
Know'st thou not me, who now thine aid 

require. 
And over all thy brood did most aspire 
To love and to be loved ? whom late thou 
gavest 
To moulding time beside the sounding 
deep, 
Bosomed with that wild passion which thou 
cravest. 
And peril in my blood to dance and 

leap 
And in my heart perpetual spring to 
keep; 

69 



70 WILD EDEN 

But O, what kindless storm and winter 

woe 
Hath laid the violets of the year asleep. 
And bade my bursting blossoms never 

blow ! 
Am I not thine, O Mother ? bend low, 

bend low ! 

O Mighty Mother, who with dark hands 
dippest 
Thy children in this living glory's tide, 
And in their infant gaze creation clippest 
Blue-orbed in their young spirits azure- 
eyed. 
And openest for their feet far-off the 
wide 
Light-gateways ! thou who hast the mighty 
magic 
And layest thy sons in nature's foster- 
breast, 
Where from the wells of being they drain 
the tragic 



THE MIGHTY MOTHER 



71 



Nurture of spirits greatening o'er the 

rest, 
And do themselves with that same 
power invest 
With which the lone sun flames and blue 
seas roll, 
Which stretches out the day from east 
to west, 
And sows the vivid heavens from pole to 

pole, — 
New wielders of the universal soul ! 

O Mother, who with hands of splendor 
blindest 
The naked vision which thy sons adore. 
And o'er them, face and hair and forehead, 
bindest 
The mortal veil the sacred poets wore. 
Bringing it forth from fame's eternal 
store ; 
And windest round them with sweet-toned 
measures 



72 WILD EDEN 

Its wandering woof of winds and waters 
wove, 
The poets' flowery joys and starry pleasures, 
The marvel of the dreaminor soul of 

love, — 
And heaven and earth in its enchant- 
ment move ; 
Then see they spirits walking in the sky. 
And mates of glory go the way they rove ; 
Across the world they see a great beam lie ; 
Nor deem it Hfe to live, nor death to die. 

If this were life, thou wouldst not hear 
me crying ; 
If this were death, my mouth were stopt 
with dust; 
O Mighty Mother, far beyond replying. 
Gone is the power that made me great 

in trust ; 
I only cry aloud because I must, 
For whom in heaven sang every star my 
brother, 



THE MIGHTY MOTHER 73 

Sang every flower on earth in tune with 
me, 
And light and sound, each sweeter than 
the other, 
About my thoughts v/ashed music Hke 

a sea. 
Where long I voyaged with my min- 
strelsy ; 
They friend not now ; nor see I, night nor 
day. 
The landscape glorified with cloud or tree; 
But waves of shadow through my senses 

play; 
Along dark tides my spirit swoons av/ay. 

O, leave me not to drift through this blue 
being 
Borne darkly as the dark wave bears the 
foam, 
Sinking away, past touch, past sound, past 
seeing. 
And further from divinest love to roam! 



74 WILD EDEN 

Not thus thou bnngest the fair Hfe- 

lovers home ! 

But rather past celestial skies that brighten 

To the far shining of the heavenly rose. 

Past congregated stars that blaze and lighten 

Unto the Sun unseen whence all light 

flows. 
The soul enamoured to its mystery goes ! 
Me darkness compasses, and starless woe; 
Me living doth night's sepulchre en- 
close ; 
O yet, even now, might I thy presence 

know, 
Though all were lost, thy child might victor 
go! 



XXXVII 
aiutumn 

Where summer bees were droning 

Half the moony night, 
Like a poet's thoughts intoning 

Bliss of as brief delight, 
Now autumn dirges sift 

The lindens yellowing old. 
Wailing low the dying shrift 

Of love long told. 

Autumn winds go moaning 

Through the boughs like amber bright ; 
Grinds the gray sea groaning 

On beaches wild and white; 
The lonely lindens lift 

Their long-deserted gold ; 
Soon the black rain, the white drift, 

And the leaf in the mould. 
75 



XXXVIII 
^0 ^loU) to Wit 

The rainbow on the ocean 

A moment bright, 
The nightingale's devotion 

That dies on night, 
Eve's rosy star a-tremble 

Its hour of Hght, — 
All things that love resemble 

Too soon take flight. 

The violets we cherish 

Died in the spring; 
Roses and lilies perish 

In what they bring; 
And joy and beauty wholly 

With life depart ; 
But love leaves slow, how slowly ! 

Life's empty heart. 
76 



so SLOW TO DIE 77 

O, strange to me, and wondrous, 

The storm passed by. 
With sound of voices thundrous 

Swept from the sky ; 
But stranger, love, thy fashion, — 

O, tell me why 
Art thou, dark storm of passion. 

So slow to die ? 

As roll the billowy ridges 

When the great gale has blown o'er; 
As the long winter-dirges 

From frozen branches pour ; 
As the whole sea's harsh December 

Pounds on the pine-hung shore ; 
So will love's deep remember. 

So will deep love deplore. 



XXXIX 
CBDm SDirge 

I HAVE been where the white lilies blow 

That no heart ponders ; 
I have been where the rose-thickets grow, 

And love never wanders ; 
Where the laurel-branch unbroken 

Forgets the songful strife ; 
I have found this Death-in-life ; 

'Tis in Wild Eden! 

There over the low lilied lawns, 

Down rose-leaf alleys, 
She moves under silent dawns 

Through songless valleys ; 
Cold rose and snow-cold liHes 

Shall for the maid be strewn. 
Nor laurel for her moan ; 

'Tis in Wild Eden! 
78 



EDEN DIRGE 79 

I have sent my songs up to her — 

Sweetly youth left me ; 
I have given my manhood to woo her, 

And of all bereft me ; 
And nightly I wake from the garden 

That lieth remote, apart, 
On the bourn of the hopeless heart ; — 

'Tis in Wild Eden. 



XL 

" Whence comest thou, Child, when April 

wakes, 
So phantom-fair through these green brakes? 
Why wilt thou follow, fond and fain. 
My footsteps to the wood again ? 

" Why, as I rest by this gray rock, 
Do thy wet eyes the violets mock? 
O, tell me why, in thy white bosom. 
Thou ever wearest the blood-red blos- 
som ?'* — 

" Thou comest to watch the violets die, 

And over early love to sigh ; 

Thou comest to watch the wild - rose 

waken. 
And drop thy tears o*er love forsaken. 
80 



THE BLOOD-RED BLOSSOM 8i 

" And wouldst thou know why these three 

years, 
When April wakes, I rise in tears ? 
And wouldst thou know why in my bosom 
I wear forever the blood-red blossom ? 

" 'Twas here I grew, warm nature's child, 
Too young to be by love beguiled ; 
I took the mantle of the spring 
To be my infant covering. 

" My heart was full of tender loves, 
Soft as a dove-cote full of doves ; 
I brought the violets kisses true. 
Warm as the sun and fresh as dew ; 

" Loved to-day and wished the morrow, 
Went blue-eyed and knew no sorrow. 
Dreaming what I saw, and seeing 
What I dreamed, a gentle being; 

" Seeing, dreaming, loving all. 
What should such a child befall. 



82 WILD EDEN 

Save the sunshine, save the breeze 
Blowing to the shining seas ? 

" O, fair I flowered in opening youth, 
Too pure to doubt that love is truth ; 
I took the fragrance of the May 
To be the sweetness of my clay. 

" Came the spirit of Desire ; 
Came the finding of the lyre ; 
Came the night without repose ; 
Came the singing of the rose. 

" I saw it open, fresh and fair, 
And spread upon the country air ; 
I saw the shy bud swell apart, 
And at the last give all its heart. 

" I felt a tremor seize my breast, 
And hopes unknown and unconfest ; 
I only knew some joy to be 
By joy that then was dear to me. 



THE BLOOD-RED BLOSSOM 83 

" And down I knelt, and kissed it oft. 
Kisses many, pure, and soft ; 
I thought — 1 was so childish wise — 
God planted it in Paradise. 

" O, blithe beneath the branch of June 
My heart danced with the stars in tune ; 
And, throb on throb, deep nature's flood 
Grew warm and gladdened in my blood. 

" O, love began as Phosphor bright 
Melts on the rosy breast of light ; 
O, love began as this wild wood 
Quires with its red-throat multitude ! 

" I gave my body to sweet Desire ; 
I gave my soul to the shrill lyre ; 
And all night long, without repose, 
I sang the beauty of the rose. 

" And I forgot the violets dead. 
And many a lily's golden head ; 



84 WILD EDEN 

And I passed by all gentle flowers 
Wherewith love decks his mortal bowers. 

" My blood is faint, my cheeks are pale. 
Since I began the deathless tale ; 
And thee I follow, fond and fain, 
When to the wood thou goest again. 

" By this gray rock I stand, a child ; 
My eyes are wet, my looks are wild ; 
I see a deep wound in thy breast, 
And tears bedew thy secret rest. 

" The wood shall wilt, the grass shall wither, 
But with the spring will I come hither ; 
And when from all things here I fade. 
With lovers dead shalt thou be laid. 

"And now thou knowest why these three 

years. 
When April wakes, I rise in tears ; 
And now thou knowest why in my bosom 
I wear forever the blood-red blossom." 



XLI 

I WILL go down to the hoar sea's infinite 

foam ; 
I will bathe in the winds of heaven ; 1 will 

nest where the white birds home; 
Where the sheeted emerald glitters and 

drifts with bursts of snow, 
In the spume of stormy mornings, I will 

make me ready and go ; 
Where under the clear west weather the 

violet surge is rolled, 
I will strike with the sun in heaven the 

day-long league of gold ; 
Will mix with the waves, and mingle with 

the bloom of the sunset bar, 
85 



86 WILD EDEN 

And toss with the tangle of moonbeams, 
and call to the mornnig star ; 

And wave and wing shall know me a sea- 
child even as they. 

Of the race of the great sea-farers a thousand 
years if a day. 



For far in the dawn of England, by the 
gray Devonian shore 

There dwelt a cluster of fishers who drew 
from the sea their store ; 

And aye as the morning mounted, they 
took the ocean's breath. 

They shook out sail, they slipped away, 
they gave great odds to death ; 

In little scores they spoiled the seas, wher- 
ever helm could steer. 

And grafting greatness through the world 
they planted England here ; 

Nor rested from sea-labor between the star- 
set poles, — 



SEAWARD 87 

Two centuries their schooners plunged 
over the Gorges' shoals ; 

And when the new world's morning un- 
veiled earth's vaster face. 

And God poured hence the flood-tides of 
his many-fountained grace, 

From Arctic to Antarctic, by either far- 
flung Cape, 

Wherever points the compass, the great sea- 
roads they shape ; 

They cleave the Indian Ocean, they chart 
the China Seas, 

The coral-tusked Pacific they have van- 
quished at their ease ; 

They haunt the Coast of Gold, they hang 
on the Isles of Spice, 

They have summered the Tropic Trades, 
they have wintered the Polar ice ; 

And dropping home they anchored in the 
quiet harbor-bars. 

Who through the winds of all the world 
had flung our shining stars. 



88 WILD EDEN 

Mine is this blood-red lineage, 'twixt the 

glories of birth and death, 
That gave for the breath of my nostrils the 

salt sea-breath ! 
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, soul 

of my soul. 
To thee, man-nourishing Ocean, I come — 

make me whole ! 
I am weary in blood and nerve, weary in 

brain and limb. 
Weary in sense and feeling, and the lights 

of life burn dim. 
Ah, soon will the hill of the violets be 

mounded deep with snows ; 
A mist comes out of the lilies, and flame 

from the breath of the rose ; 
And all this marvellous beauty is a mad- 
ness in my brain ; 
For ever my joyful being is dying — dying 

in pain ; 
Of the flush of the bough, of the fragrance 

of woods, of the moan of the dove 



SEAWARD 89 

Weary — and weary of passion — and thrice, 
thrice weary of love ! 

O, the bitter-sweet illusion of the seeming- 
happy hours. 

The pure thoughts, the sweet awe, the 
darkness-budding bowers ! 

O, beautiful in noble hearts love's dawn- 
sweet garden stands. 

But the breath of one brief whisper shall 
sow such hearts with sands ! 

O, fair in love's great ages, down the thou- 
sand years of rhyme 

Rings the tourney, shines the laurel of 
the courtly time ! 

But here is haunting of houses where they 
chatter of yea and nay, 

Chatter of title and fortune, chatter the 
heart away ; 

The lairs of social lies, the golden barter 
base, — 

Not to decline on these have I seen love 
face to face ! 



90 WILD EDEN 

I will rise, I will go from the places that 
are dark with passion and pain, 

From the sorrow-changed woodlands and 
a thousand memories slain. 

light gone out in darkness on the cliff 

I seek no more 

Where she I worshipped met me in her 
girlhood at the door ! 

O, bright though years how many ! fare- 
well, sweet guiding star — 

The wild wind blows me seaward over 
the harbor-bar ! 

Better thy waste, gray Ocean, the homeless, 
heaving plain. 

Than to choke the fount of life and the 
flower of honor stain ! 

1 will seek thy blessed shelter, deep bosom 

of sun and storm. 
From the fever and fret of the earth and 

the things that debase and deform ; 
For I am thine ; from of old thou didst 

lay me, a child, at rest 



SEAWARD 91 

In thy cradle of many waters, and gav'st 

to my hunger thy breast; 
Remember the dreamful boy whom thy 

beauty preserved from wrong, — 
Thou taughtest me music, O Singer of 

the never-silent song! 
Man-grown, I will seek thy healing ; though 

from worse than death I fly, 
Not mine the heart of the craven, not 

here I mean to die ! 
Let me taste on my lips thy salt, let me 

live with the sun and the rain. 
Let me lean to the rolling wave and feel 

me man again! 
O, make thee a sheaf of arrows as when 

thy winters rage forth, — 
Whiten me as thy deep-sea waves with the 

blanching breath of the North ! 
O, take thee a bundle of spears from thine 

azure of burning drouth. 
Smite into my pulses the tremors, the 

fervors, the blaze of the South ! 



92 WILD EDEN 

So might my breath be snow-cold, and 

my blood be pure like fire, 
The heavenly souls that have left me will 

come back to sustain and inspire. 
Take me — I come — O, save me in the 

paths my fathers trod ! — 
Then fling me back to the battle where 

men labor the peace of God! 



Heart of Man 

BY 

GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY 

Author of " The North Shore Watch" etc. 

i2mo. Cloth. $1.50 



New York Times: 

" As it cannot but charm by the beauty of its language, so, 
too, by the acuteness of its thought, and its high expression of 
faith in our common human nature in the heart of man, it con- 
tains an inspiring lesson." 

New York Cotninercial Advertiser : 

" It is fitting that by Wordsworth the teacher, the thinker, 
and the poet, were suggested the words that give the title to 
this book. ' Deep in the general heart of man ' is to be sought 
the inspiration to idealism in poetry, politics, and religion, the 
inspiration to the higher hfe of the spirit. A poet speaks here, 
too, and because Mr. Woodberry's pure and graceful style, the 
uplifting strength of feeling in his thought, place him, even 
when he writes in prose, with them who are the mouthpieces of 
the soul." 

Philadelphia Press : 

" It is encouraging to come across a volume of essays like 
these, which do not merely skim the surface of their subjects, 
but penetrate deep into ' the general heart of man.' " 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 



THE NORTH SHORE 
WATCH 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 



GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY 



l6mo. Boards. $1.2? 



STUDIES IN LETTERS 
AND LIFE 



BY 



GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY 



16mo. Cloth. $\.2S 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 



FIRST VOLUME OF THE NEW SERIES 

National Studies in American Letters 

GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY, Editor 



Old Cambridge 

BY 

THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON 

Author of " Tales of the Encha7ited Isles of the Atlantic," etc. 

Cloth. i6mo. $1.25 

CONTENTS : Old Cambridge in Three Literary Epochs — Holmes — 
Longfellow — Lowell — Index 



" Charming reminiscent pages . . . ahogether most enjoyable and valu- 
able." — Philadelphia Evening Telegraph. 

" A very charming example of discerning and sympathetic criticism." 

— Alew Orleans Picayune. 

"Mr. Higginson is always a charming writer, and his present volume 
gives instructive and unhackneyed glimpses of the influence which sur- 
rounded the literary men who have made Cambridge famous." 

— Boston Herald. 

*' Interesting to every person who honors New England and sets store by 
her literature. . . . Readers of the Independent know what delightful 
writing they may always be sure of from the pen of Colonel Higginson " 

— Independent. 

" Delightful studies of Lowell, Holmes, and Longfellow are here. Mr. 
Higginson is well fitted to write about these authors, and he has given us a 
charming volume, which will be eagerly welcomed by all lovers of American 
literature." — New York Observer. 

" In his historical and reminiscent account of * Old Cambridge,' the author 
finds a theme peculiarly congenial to himself and pleasant to his readers. 
With nearly all the eminent literary' men of the later Cambridge, the author 
enjoyed intimate relations, while he was almost equally familiar with the 
literary and scholastic Cnmbridge of the more remote past. ... Mr. Hig- 
ginson concludes the volume with reminiscent and critical papers on Holmes, 
Longfellov/, and Lowell; in his usual happy discursive vein. These chap- 
ters abound in anecdotes of personal knowledge, and are delightful." 

— Chicago Tribufie. 

" It is by far the best short estimate of Lowell, written, as the other por- 
tions of the book are, with rare discrimination and kindliness. . . . Mr. Hig- 
ginson's style is so uniformly sweet and cheerful that he infuses cheerfulness 
into the reader, and were he a vindictive opinionist, such a style would dis- 
arm any one inclined to disagree with him. As a companion volume to 
' Cheerful Yesterdays ' it illuminates points in Cambridge life and characters 
which we then thought were meagrely treated." 

— New York Home Journal. 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY, 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK. 



National Studies in American Letters 

GEORGE E. WOODBERRY, Editor 

READY 
Old Cambridge. By Thomas Wentworth Higginson. 

IN PREPARATION 

The American Historical Novel. By Paul Leicester 

Ford. 
The Knickerbockers. By Henry Van Dyke. 
Southern Humorists. By John Kendrick Bangs. 
Brook Farm, By Lindsay Swipt. 
The Clergy in American Life and Letters. By Daniel 

D. Addison. 
Flower of Essex. By the Editor. 

Others to be announced later 



The object of this new series is to present the history and development of 
our literature durine; its first century in a form sufficiently various and many- 
sjded to comprehend its many phases and their particular relation to historical 
movements, social conditions, localities, differences of origin, temperament, 
and environment, — to exhibit, in general, its whole breadth and copiousness; 
and to do this in such a way as to make the entire series a complete view, 
valuable both for itself now and as a permanent record of the century. 

The special prominence that has been given, in books on this subject 
hitherto, to particular places and men, has perhaps somewhat thrown out of 
proportion the general achievement of the nation as a whole. The absence 
of any very thorough treatment of our literature as a national product leads 
to the same incomplete apprehension of its extent and variety. In the single 
department of humor, for example, there are many distinct phases and stages 
of which our knowledge is almost a haphazard matter. In fiction there was 
romance before Hawthorne which had an interesting career and was illustrated 
by names still remembered. The taste for sentiment and lightness of touch 
of which Willis was the popular type was widespread; it was influential m 
its day and helped men who were free from its weaknesses; but there is no 
account of it. 

The topics will not be confined to any one kind, and are illustrated by the 
announcements made. Several of the volumes are nearly ready. The proj- 
ect is thus, in fact, to furnish a comprehensive history of our litera- 
ture in a series of comparatively brief studies of its individual 
elements, for the purpose of giving to it, as a national expression, a 
more just importance and truer perspective than it yet presents in 
popular knowledge. 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 



NOV IS 1899 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

016 256 296 4 % 



